A Healing Story

Matthew 6:33 But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

Psalm 103:2-4 2 Praise the LORD, my soul,and forget not all his benefits—3 who forgives all your sinsand heals all your diseases,4 who redeems your life from the pitand crowns you with love and compassion

I was different. At 13 I was already a freak by my peers standards--myself a head taller than any other kid in my class (which was taken care of because that year I stopped growing and settled at a nice 5'4 and 3/4) and if that wasn't enough to set me apart, I dealt with debilitating health problems; boils, skin rashes, insulin issues, stomach problems, weight gain. Everything around me, every interaction, every experience told me I was different and the message came loud and clear-- different was bad. To cope with the "different," I turned to food. Food was always there, and it never hurled hurtful words at me.

Around that time was when I started to have issues with my father. A daddy's girl at heart, my body was changing, my hormones were raging, and riding to Home Depot to look at tools wasn't as fun as it used to be. Prone to fits of rage, he'd throw hurtful words my way. Looking back I can see that he was hurting but all my little heart felt was more rejection. The message was still the same--you're different and different is bad. As we fought through my teenage years I continued to seek solace in food.

Fast forward to my now mid-twenties self and a routine doctor's appointment. The doctor had heard the issues that I still struggled with and suggested that all of it culminated from one disease--Celiacs. Celiac's is a disorder in which a person's body cannot tolerate a wheat protein called gluten and by the way--it's in everything! Though my health issues resolved, my life became focused around what I couldn't eat, which meant that my life was still focused around food. I made the most of it, learning to use different flours...in fact, I got used to it. You could even say I'd become content.

During a two-day ministry focused conference at our church, God started a conversation that went something like this.

What do you need physical healing from?

Nothing God, I got this. I feel pretty good!

You can't think of anything?

Uh--well, I've got Celiacs, but I'm scared to be healed from it.

Why is that?

If I'm healed, I'll have to face my food demons--I'm not so good with that ya know. Not having bread and pasta has worked out pretty good for me.

What if I want to heal you--what if I want to heal ALL your food issues? What if all you had to do was ask?

Alright God, I get it, tell me what I need to do to be healed.

Listen....

Right about that time one of our Pastor's was giving a talk on forgiveness, and so I listened intently. I realized right then that I had so much unforgiveness towards men--my dad in particular. I was holding my dad accountable for so much and even though he was gone, I couldn't seem to shake the bitterness. There were some inner vows there too--I'll never get close to a man again,--I'll never be acceptable.

When my Pastor talked about forgiveness, I heard it in a way I'd never understood before. Forgiveness was simply what I did with what was already done to me. I couldn't change my dad, and since he was gone I couldn't reconcile with him...but I could forgive him. I could lay down what he did and not hold it to his account--the very same thing Christ did for me. During the process I laid down the immense rejection and accepted God's truth--that I was His child and He loved me dearly.

Then I heard it--Go have a pizza, on me!

And so I did.

Two remarkable things happened that night. One, I didn't get sick--not even a bit. You have to understand that accidentally "glutening" myself before hand would have caused an immediate trip to the restroom, but not this time. Hour by hour passed and I felt great.

The second thing was that I didn't desire more than what made me full. Before, I couldn't stop at one piece of pizza, I had to five. I couldn't have one bowl of pasta, I had to have three. Food was an addiction, and the cycle of addiction consumed me, but food's hold over me had been broken and let me tell you--it felt good.

What God did that day was twofold. First, God saw something in me that I didn't even know about myself--that agreeing with the label "Celiac" and being restricted from my "trigger foods" was helping me avoid the root issue, the thing that I really needed healing from. Secondly, God showed me that He enjoys (as one Pastor put it) "healing my booboos."

Since then I've felt such freedom---eating just till I'm full and sampling foods I'd given up without even a hint of issues. I'm also continuing the dialogue that was started that day about food and He continues to help me understand and live out the freedom He's given me. I know that there will be temptations and other areas that need to be healed, but I feel confident that day I was changed forever. My heart lurches a bit as I type this because I know that there are people that have been pleading for physical healing for years with diseases more debilitating than my Celiacs and they still wonder when their healing will come. I don't have an answer for them. That's their journey, their story.

This is mine.